The Gray-Haired Knitting Detective Series: (Books 1 - 3)

by D. E. Haggerty

  “The Whiskey Ranch,” Jack shouts.

  I turn around to look at him in confusion. “We’re going to a bar with a pregnant lady?”

  Jack shrugs. “Pregnant lady. Designated Driver. Tomato. To-mah-to.”

  Before I can respond, Izzy pats my hand. “It’s fine, Dee.”

  It’s Friday night and the Whiskey Ranch is packed. Several of the dining tables have been hauled away to make room for a dance floor. A DJ is set up in a corner booth, but he hasn’t started playing yet. I try not to panic as we make our way to an empty booth. Izzy easily parts the crowd and I stick close to her. Okay, I totally grab her shirt and hold on. Terrified of being alone in the crush of beer drinkers.

  We sit and it doesn’t take long for the waitress to make it to our table. “Hi, darling,” Jack yells to be heard over the crowd. “The usual times three plus a coke for the lady who’s preggers.”

  The waitress nods and heads off, making sure to give Jack and Damien the once over before she leaves. Jack said ‘the usual’ so she must know who they are and that they don’t play for her team, but still she takes her time looking. I can’t blame her. Jack and Damien are hot. It should be against the law for men to be that devastatingly handsome. It just ruins it for those of us who have to settle for less than perfection.

  I look around the bar as we wait for the waitress to return. The crowd doesn’t overwhelm me now that we’re sitting down. Plus the hallway to the bathrooms is right behind us. Yeah, I totally checked out the emergency getaways. The waitress returns with three Cosmopolitans and a coke. I’m usually a wine drinker, but a Cosmo will do in a pinch.

  Jack picks up his glass and motions for everyone else to follow his lead. “To Dee,” he shouts. “To getting away from her motherfucker of a husband.”

  “Here! Here!” Izzy shouts and then slams her coke like a shot. Then she starts coughing like a maniac. “Bubbles. In my nose. Bubbles.” I slap her on the back and try not to laugh at her goofiness.

  The jukebox stops and the DJ announces his intention to rock the house. Everyone cheers and the music starts up again – only twice as loud as before. Can ears really bleed? Because that’s a distinct possibility here.

  With no chance at conversation, we sit quietly and sip our drinks while people watching. Jack and Damien whisper and giggle to each other. They’re so cute. A slow song comes on and Damien grabs Jack’s hand. They head to the dance floor grasping hands. I watch for a while but am interrupted when I hear a drunken slur in my ear. “Wanna dance?” I don’t even bother to look at the face that belongs to that slur. I’m not interested in dancing and I’m certainly not interested in dancing with Mr. Drunk-and-Doesn’t-Understand-Personal-Space. I just shake my head. I feel a hand on my shoulder, but just as quick, it’s gone.

  “She said no, buddy.” A delicious shiver runs down my back at the sound of Tommy’s voice. Mmmm. But then I remember, I’m married to an asshat and need a man like I need another hole in my head. Izzy and the guys are well aware of my feelings. Was the entire girls’ night out a set-up? I turn to Izzy to ask, who all of sudden won’t meet my eyes. I’ll take that as a yes then.

  I hear some shuffling and grunting behind me. I roll my eyes at Tommy’s obvious disregard for his competition. It doesn’t take long before Tommy’s gently pushing me so that he can sit next to me. Unfortunately, we’re in a semi-round booth and Izzy has already scooted away from me to make room for Tommy. I turn my evil eye on her, but she just giggles. I shake my head.

  Tommy shouts something into my ear, but I can’t understand him. “What?” I shout back.

  “How did today go?”

  Oh great. The man has appointed himself my protector now. I sigh. “Fine!”

  He just looks at me and then shakes his head as if he doesn’t believe me. I shrug. His choice. Unfortunately, the DJ is on a roll with the slow songs. Another one starts up and Tommy grabs my hand. “Come one. We’re dancing.”

  I don’t like the way he’s acting like a caveman, telling me I’m going to dance with him. And I really, really don’t like the way my hand tingles where he touches it and my belly warms as he pulls me to the dance floor.

  Once we reach the other dancers, Tommy pulls me to him and plasters my front to him. I would complain I can’t breathe, but my entire body lights up as he sways me. What is this? Brock never made me feel this way. I don’t think I like it. I think it scares me. I think I’ve got enough going on right now that I don’t need to be feeling this way.

  But that doesn’t stop me. I decide I’m going to enjoy this one song. This one dance. This one thing with Tommy. After that, I’m out of here. I’ll walk home if I have to. My apartment’s not that far.

  Luckily, the DJ and I are in sync. As soon as the song ends, he pops another record on and this one is pumping. I use the chaos of the revelers squealing in delight with his song selection to make my escape. Of course, it’s not that easy. Tommy latches on to my hand, takes the lead, and pulls me through the crowd to the table.

  Izzy’s alone at the table when we arrive. Now I feel bad. She’s stuck here all alone unable to drink and everyone abandoned her. “Where are Jack and Damien?” I shout.

  Her head tilts toward the hallway where I see the two of them in a heavy make-out session. Wow! That’s hot. I nearly fan myself before I remember Tommy’s behind me. “I’m ready to go.”

  Izzy looks at me and nods. She’s probably happy for an excuse to get going with as exhausted as she looks. Just then Jack and Damien return to the table. Jack claps Tommy on the back. “Glad to see you made it.”

  I stare at Jack. Well, that just seals the deal, doesn’t it? The entire night was a total set-up. I shake my head. “I’ll see you at the car, Izzy.” She nods her understanding and I take off.

  Tommy follows me and makes sure I get to Izzy’s car without any problems. He’s not a stupid man, however. He knows to keep his mouth shut. Just when I think I’ve made a clean escape, he leans in and whispers into my ear, “I told you this wasn’t over.”

  Chapter 8

  “If we knew each other's secrets, what comforts we should find.” John Churton Collins

  Somehow I manage to avoid grandmas, nosey bosses, and pushy new friends for the rest of the weekend. Jack calls on Saturday morning as I’m dragging my butt to the shower to get ready for work and tells me to take the day off. I don’t argue with him. Despite my husband’s beliefs, I’m really not that stupid.

  My phone rings several more times during the day. I read the texts, but I refuse to answer the calls. It’s just Tommy bothering me. I can’t deny that the scrumptious man does something weird to my insides when I see him and especially when I touch him, but I can do without the complications of a man right now. I’m still married for gosh sakes!

  My phone continues to buzz and as much as I’d like to ignore it, I can’t. There’s always a chance Brock discovered my number. In which case, the man himself isn’t far behind and I’ll need to disappear. So yeah, ignoring my phone isn’t an option at this point.

  Izzy: Tommy’s driving me nuts Call him!

  Me: Nope. Not gonna happen

  Izzy: I’m not getting in the middle of this. Just tell the man u r alive & safe

  Me: OK :-(

  I quickly text Tommy to let him know that I’m fine, just not in the mood to talk. He lets up though he doesn’t quit. I don’t respond again. On Sunday morning, Grandma calls and tries to get me to come to church with her. I’m pretty sure she said Tommy is a church-goer, and I’m more than pretty sure Martha is up to her old matchmaking tricks. I claim I’m tired. It’s not exactly a lie. I haven’t been sleeping very well since Friday. I’m sure they’ve managed to find Brock by now to inform him of the protection order. I shiver thinking about it.

  ♥♥♥

  Even though I’ve been hiding all weekend, I’m happy when Monday arrives and I can get out of my apartment and head into work. Monday’s are usually quiet, but at least my co-workers will be there. An hour into
my shift, Izzy shows up.

  “Your chariot has arrived, milady,” she says in an incredibly bad British accent as she bows. Well, she tries to bow anyway. She didn’t stop walking when she started to bow down and her head smacks a clothing rack. She reaches out and grabs the rack for balance. I hold my breath as I watch it teeter precariously before finally settling. I shake my head. I don’t think I’ve met a more klutzy woman.

  Just then Jack steps into the store from the employee entrance. He chuckles at Izzy but doesn’t comment on her lack of gracefulness as she rubs her head and swears under her breath. “Oh good, you’re here.”

  “You guys got a hot date or something.” I make an attempt at teasing. I’m a little rusty.

  Jack flashes me with a grin that could melt the darkest chocolate. “Something like that.”

  “You didn’t tell her,” Izzy accuses. Uh oh, I have a feeling I’m about to lose my temper about something.

  “Tell me what?” This is me being brave. It’s totally impressive except for the fact that my voice is only slightly louder than a whisper and possibly wobbles.

  Jack’s face pinks slightly. I’m not sure if that’s a good sign or a bad one. “Um, I made an appointment for you.” He refuses to meet my eyes, which are now glaring at him.

  “You did what? Why? What for?” I stumble over my words in anger. I really don’t like being told what to do. I thought I’d escaped all that bulrooney when I came here. Guess not.

  Izzy clears her throat to gain my attention. “Look.” She opens her hands in a placating gesture. “It’s not a big deal. You need a lawyer for the court hearing, which is next week already, and Jack has a friend who’s a lawyer. He called in a favor.” I huff, but I can’t manage to get any words to come out. “Don’t worry. You’re still paying. We can front you some money if you need it, though.”

  That calms me down a bit. Just an appointment, but I’m paying. Okay, I can handle this and I do need a lawyer. I nod. “Okay. I guess you’re my ride?” Although why everyone thinks I need a ride everywhere when I own a car is beyond me.

  Izzy nods and I follow her out of the store. The lawyer’s office is next to the courthouse and it takes us less than ten minutes to drive there. The receptionist immediately takes me into a conference room and then retreats. I’m surprised when Izzy takes a seat next to me.

  “I thought you’d wait outside,” I say to her as she swivels in her chair and rubs her belly.

  She shrugs. “Noel figured you wouldn’t want to be alone and that you wouldn’t want your grandma with you so...” She spreads her arms wide. “…You got me!”

  I’m shocked when a middle-aged woman walks in. I assumed by ‘friend’ Izzy meant an ex-lover of Jack’s. I take another look at the woman. She’s a big woman, but her suit looks like it was made for her. Ah, she must be a client of Jack’s store. Although the store is famous for its selection of clothes and accessories for cross-dressers, there’s also a big and beautiful section, which carries a more than decent selection of business attire for larger women.

  I stand as she walks directly to me and holds out a hand. “Hi, I’m Sherry Johnson.”

  I stand and shake her hand. “Delilah Clark.”

  After she releases my hand, I sit back down. Ms. Johnson moves around the table and sits in a chair directly across from me. She clicks her pen. “I understand from Jack that you have a temporary protective order against your husband.” I nod. “And the hearing for the final protection order has been set for next week?” I nod again. “I assume your husband is going to fight you on this.”

  I take a deep breath before letting it out. “Yeah. He wants me to come back home, but I am home.”

  The lawyer smiles at me. “Alrighty then, we’re going to need some ammunition to make sure this protection order sticks.”

  I almost laugh. Sherry Johnson sure doesn’t talk like I expect a lawyer to. It puts me a bit at ease. “What do you want to know?”

  She pulls out a piece of paper. “Let’s start with this list of questions.”

  Thirty minutes later, I have a headache and I’m pretty sure my lawyer has a cramp in her hand. I’ve detailed as much of the abuse as I can remember, both emotional and physical. I’ve never told anyone this. I feel raw, as if someone has stripped away my skin and I am completely exposed to the world. Only Izzy’s hand holding on with vice grip is grounding me. Every time I get jumpy and start to push my chair away from the table to run away, she clamps down on my hand. Unfortunately, I can’t drag a pregnant lady with me in any escape attempt.

  Finally, the questions stop. Sherry, she insisted I stop with that ‘Ms. Johnson shit’ two minutes into her interrogation, puts her pen down, and stares at me. “We should file for divorce as well.”

  I gasp. Of course, I want a divorce from my asshat husband, but I don’t want to pour fuel on the fire. “Don’t you think he’s going to be mad enough about this as it is?”

  Sherry takes a deep breath and puts it out there for me. “You need to cut this man loose, Dee. I know it hurts and it’s scary, but he’s dangerous.”

  I nod. “That’s what I’m worried about. He’s dangerous.”

  “That’s why we’re getting this protective order taken care of,” she responds in a no-nonsense manner as she taps the file on the table with her fingernail. “Once you’re divorced, he’ll be forced to let you go.” Yeah right, like Brock would ever take orders from anyone else, even if the person giving orders is a judge.

  Izzy pulls my hand so I’m forced to look at her. “I know it’s scary, Dee, but why don’t you just get all of this junk taken care of at the same time.” Something in her voice makes me think there’s more to Izzy’s story. Now’s not the time to ask for details, though.

  I sigh and nod. “Fine. What do we have to do?”

  Sherry claps her hands in excitement. Totally not what I expected from a lawyer. “Let’s get this started.” She pulls a different file out of her pile. “Considering everything you just told me, it shouldn’t be a problem to get a fault divorce.”

  She’s lost me. “What’s a fault divorce?”

  “It’s a ground for divorce. Considering Brock’s treatment of you, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  I shake my head. “Um no. I don’t want a fault divorce. Isn’t there something like no-fault?”

  Sherry nods slowly. “Yes, you can get a no-fault divorce for incompatibility, but then it may be harder to get spousal support and the settlement may be smaller.”

  I scrunch my forehead. Spousal support? Settlement? Um no. “I don’t want anything from Brock.”

  Sherry’s eyebrows nearly reach her hairline. “It sounds like Brock has a decent amount of money. Don’t you want some of that?”

  I shake my head. “I just want rid of that man. I don’t want his money.”

  Sherry spends the next day and a half trying to convince me to ask for alimony or at least temporary support. Okay, maybe it’s only five minutes, but I’m not budging on this issue so it’s a waste of time. Finally, I hold out my hand for her to stop. “I don’t want a settlement and I have no interest in alimony or temporary support or whatever it’s called. I don’t want anything from him. I’m cutting him out of my life.”

  Sherry stares at me before finally nodding in defeat. “Okay, I’ll get to work on the paperwork and let you know if I need anything from you.” With that, she stands and reaches across the table to shake my hand again. After we shake hands, Izzy pulls me from the office.

  In the hallway, she stops and puts her arms around me. “I’m so proud of you, Dee.”

  I start to ask how in the world she can be proud of a woman who let herself be emotionally and physically beat down, but she stops me with a finger on my lips. “I don’t want to hear you beat yourself up anymore. And before you ask, of course, everything that I heard today will remain between us. It’s your decision to tell people the whole truth.”

  Relief washes over me and sweeps away the feeling of exposure. I near
ly collapse into her arms before I remember she’s pregnant and probably shouldn’t be holding me up.

  Chapter 9

  “And the Queen... she reminds me of my grandma.” will.i.am

  My relief is short-lived. I startle when I realize that Izzy is driving in the wrong direction. “Um, Izzy, where are we going?”

  She blushes. I roll my eyes. What now? “Um, your grandma was pretty angry that I took you to see the lawyer.” She clears her throat. “The only way I could get her to agree not to go with you was to promise to meet her after the appointment.”

  I’m relieved that Grandma wasn’t with me. There’s no way I could have told the lawyer everything she needed to hear with Grandma listening but… “We’re going the wrong way. Grandma’s house is that way.” I point to the right. Izzy ignores me and just continues to drive straight ahead.

  Izzy’s face is now bright red. “Um, your grandma’s friends are kinda meeting us as well.”

  I know Grandma is really tight with her friends, but this is a family matter. Every time I turn around I’m running into Grandma’s cronies. I’m done with this. “Stop the car.” My voice is barely louder than a whisper, but I know Izzy hears me as she turns to me in alarm. “Stop the car,” I say again.

  Izzy pulls over, but she grabs my arm before I can make my escape. For a pregnant woman, she’s freaking strong. “I know this is overwhelming, but there’s no way you’re going to escape the ladies.”

  I close my eyes and lean my head against the window. I bang it a few times in my frustration. “Why?”

  Izzy laughs. She actually flipping laughs. What in the world? I turn to glare at her. “Sorry,” she says and covers her mouth with a hand. “You’ve been adopted into the group.” She shrugs. “You can run, but you can’t hide.”

  “Was this town always so crazy?” I lived here with Grandma after my parents died, but I don’t remember everyone being so nosey and getting in my business.